Chasing Butterflies
by CryoticCasper
Summary: Ever feel like you were dreaming, and was stuck in that world? After one fateful evening, our young heroine is struck by lightning, and where she's transported is just too good to be true. Here's to chasing the butterflies in our mind's eye. Rated M for future chapters. Please read and review. Enjoy. -CryoticCasper
1. Prologue

Chasing Butterflies  
Fan-fiction written by: CryoticCasper

Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or anything affiliated with it, I only own the original characters in which I create and the unique story-line ideas that go with them.

Prologue

She found herself in a weird wonderland, one that was no where close to those that appeared in her dreams; nothing seemed to be truly real, it all looked wrong. She was used to dreaming about fantastical landscapes, ones that featured wide green ever-growing pastures as far as the eye could see, looming and broad trunk willow trees with branches that threatened to touch the heavens,even luminous mountains whom peaks would shine brightly in the sun with glistening snow; this was definitely not the norm.

Waves of water that was as clear as a diamond, yet could only truly be described as cerulean blue in color, crashed senselessly against the jagged shore. Her toes were met with a wet, mushy substance, and upon looking down she noticed the presence of the light beige sand. Warm, yet still gentle, ocean winds swept across the planes of her slightly sunburned face with light caresses.

Was this all real, or was she still stuck in her mind's eye, coddled up with worn tattered blankets. She could still picture herself laying upon her thin strung-out mattress, the raucous night life of the outside city bringing the noise through her window and to her ears. So to her, this dreamscape was a lie, it could not, in no possible way be real.

She assumed she was alone, and she usually is, in both her dreams and while she was awake. So reality came crashing down, and brought her back to her senses quickly upon hearing a rough, fanatical voice speak out and the cold, sharp tip of a blade at her neck.  
"Ello' poppet.."  
_

A/N: So what do you guys think? I plan on introducing you guys to our heroine's appearance and general information in the next few chapters, and if that wasn't obvious enough for you that means I AM CONTINUING THIS. I would love some reviews if possible. Let me know what you would like to see, and what you think needs to be improved upon!

Yours forever and always,  
CryoticCasper.


	2. Meager Beginnings

Chasing Butterflies

_A/N: So for those of you who did chose to stay and read the next chapter, thank you! And for those who choose to review as well, you have my gratitude! Well, here we go the first official chapter! *__**runs off to get cheesecake**__*_

Dylan Lillian Crenshaw was not your average high school teenager, if anything could truly describe her, then it would be that she is uniquely awkward. Of course if you looked at it that way, then almost every other teenager was as well, in their own way. But what made Dylan so unique, was her ability to completely immerse herself into her own imagination; her mind was filled with such frivolous things, that more often than not she got carried away with it. This caused her a lot of trouble within school, and it wasn't just because of her inability to pay attention to her work. Between none too gentle pushes in the hallway, harshly worded notes left in her locker, gym clothes ripped to shreds, or the mocking comments in front of entire classrooms, her classmates made it clear they didn't approve of her daydreaming.

But wasn't that the entire point of high school years, to not only succeed with schooling, but to dream of something grand that you could work towards after? She wished to be something more, to make something of herself, and to not become what her parents were; empty shells of life, that chose to live in their misery, drinking away the pain, and taking it out on her later. So she could deal with the bullying, and the abuse; she had her own little haven that she could escape to that no one could take from her.

Today was like any other day in her life, and she woke up to the usual noises that the sleepy little town made in the early morning. Birds could be heard chirping, engines revving up and leaving driveways, and unfortunately the stirrings within her home. Sighing, she found that she was unable to stay in bed for much longer, and threw back her tattered blanket to swing her legs over the side of the mattress. A million different emotions fill her, as she stared at the lanky, bruised covered legs beneath her. Memories of last night's events come flooding back to her at the sight, the same memories that she had tried to escape from in her dreams.

It didn't take long for her to abandon said thoughts, such a common occurrence they were, and proceed to get ready for the day. Running the paper route in the morning, coming back to the house to (hopefully) passed out parentals, and then stopping by the library after everything was said and done. There was supposed to be a new supply of books, (the nice little old lady behind the front desk had thankfully mentioned), that was to have arrived the previous night; she had made sure to have Ms. Copeland reserve a few, just for her. Had anyone been watching, excitement could've been seen flickering through her normally dull blue eyes. It wasn't that it was so rare anymore, so much as it was why she never let herself get excited about much; she simply didn't see the point.

Dressed in one of the few outfits she did own, she left the rundown trailer in a long sleeved white shirt and jeans, her jet black locks mostly hidden by the red bandana she was always found wearing; the few times that she did let her hair down it would somehow find its way back into her face, (they always did seem to have a mind of their own…).

It wouldn't take long for her to make the sluggish journey to the local town hall, seeing as how it was a mere six blocks away, and if she hurried she could probably take a quick jog across the one vacant park to make it there even faster. Having made a decision, she started walking towards her destination with hands in her pockets, and her face cast downward towards the ground in front of her.

At a quick glance, Pica Park looked about the same as it always did; at least it looked the same compared to the few times that she did decide to pass through this direction. The few trees that were there were scraggly at best, the swing set missing some seats, and the same old faded yellow slide farther off in the distance. This isn't what caught the young girl's attention, it was a combination of both the darkening clouds and rolling thunder in the distance, but mostly the haunting laughter of a rowdy group of teenagers near the far-end of the park. The same group that made her life nearly unbearable, but more practically said 'living hell', within the halls of the local highschool.

Dylan could clearly see the self-procclaimed leader, Natasha Sutton, at the front but always closely followed by both her love-struck admirers and her trusty minions, Rachel and Maria Sanchez (…the wicked twins of the south is what she chose to call them). The last time she had a run-in with Natasha, Dylan had bravely stood her ground when reporting her to the Principal, which consequently resulted in Natasha being suspended for a month. She should've kept her mouth shut and not said a word about it to anyone, but the moment she had seen Natasha steal the answer key for one of their upcoming tests while the twins distracted said teacher, she couldn't stand for it; Dylan had waited patiently till the passing period to walk calmly to the office before mentioning it at all.

And so since Natasha had been suspended, the following weeks had been filled with dirt-filled lockers, dripping wet PE clothes, sneakers thrown into trees, hateful notes taped to her back, hard shoves into bathroom walls and much more. Following through with her decision, before ever having conciously decided, Dylan kept her head down and came near to a jog to make her way out of the park quickly; she would rather not have a confrontation with them today, especially with the storm brewing just overhead. Had it not started to drizzle at that precise moment, perhaps she would have heard the catcalls directed her way or the heavy footsteps of the boys being told to tail her, but the taunting threats fell upon a deaf ear.

Whether the threat of eminent danger was felt or not, Dylan safely made her way to the town hall, and quickly sighed with relief the moment she set foot within the front entrance. Trudging down the same familiar, orange carpeted hallways, Dylan leaned wearily against the counter where her shaded blue eyes met another tired town hall employee's. Yet, the voice that greeted her was nontheless cheerful. Dylan mustered a smile, despite the fact that she knew that after her paper route she would be returning to a house full of drunkards. Reaching across the faux marble counter, she snatched up the two piles of newspapers and slipped them thoughtlessly into her tan satchel; giving a half-hearted wave of dismissal, she departed without another thought.

As the raindrops began to fall at an increasing speed, Dylan's white shirt began to cling to her like a second skin; her black matching underwear and bra showing through with no trouble. Sneakers plunging into now forming puddles, Dylan ignored the water that seeped into her socks and continued toward the park. It was beginning to become cold, the icy rain that pelted down numbed her skin through to the bones, causing her to seek shelter beneath the nearest overhang; which consequently happened to be a nearby alleyway with awnings being the only thing connecting the two buildings.

From across the street, gleaming eyes watched the girl huddled within the alleyway in a frivolous attempt to protect her already drenched body from the ongoing storm. Leaning in closer so as to hear each other better, Natasha held her newly polished nails in front of her sneering face as though bored, before hissing to the others to lower their voices. "That bitch thinks she's all high and mighty, but she should have never stuck her nose into others' business like she did.." pausing as though she wasted a great deal of energy by simply speaking, she continued. "..but I do believe she ought' to be punished, don't you boys?". Her other hand paused in it's motion of twirling a few strands of her hair, then daintly pointed in Dylan's direction. "I think you know what to do, go teach her boney ass a lesson." Three bodies stealthily departed from the crouched group at the command, taking caution to stay out of the forementioned girl's line of sight.

It was at this time that the hairs on the back of Dylan's neck started to stand as though of their own will, and a cold chill passed so quickly through her, it had left her shivering and crossing her arms across her chest. And it was the motion that caused her to look up, even if only to check if the storm had let up any. Instead, she was greeted by the cruel twisting grins of three boys. The exact same boys who followed Natasha blindly, the notion of puppy-love being the only nonsensical reason that Dylan could think of. They moved with mimicking grace, as though they were a pack stalking it's prey. She felt frozen, almost certain she was staring up at them with pupils dialated and mouth agape. Like a deer in headlights, she thought absentmindly.

Their voices jolted her out of her reverie, making her focus on the present. It didn't take long for both their words to register, or for the adreneline pumping through her veins to jump start. They weren't here to ask about being tutored in math, and they definitely weren't here to chat about the lovely weather. As soon as these thoughts flashed in her mind, her body followed in whatever demand her brain had issued; it took the boys even less time to dash down the alley after her. Dylan didn't stop to think about what direction she was running in, not bothered enough to pick up her discarded bag, but still had enough sense to run from the general direction of peril. Her hasty escape lead her through the park, narrowly avoiding the entanglement of legs and arms belonging to the twins, and Natasha.

Thinking she had made it far enough, Dylan forced herself to come to a skidding halt, needing both a quick breather and to gather her barings. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder, she could see the lean muscled airheads just rounding the corner of the park's nearest exit; they were closer to their target than she cared to admit. Panic seized her; her blue eyes darting around, desperately seeking a safe escape. The left held a roundabout route that ended near the town hall, which held no sensible way out; to the right, only a continuous line of high-reaching wooden fence. Her only clear option was to scramble forward, continuing her previous path. Within a matter of moments, the boys had cleared the distance between themselves and Dylan. Frantic, the slender girl, who resembled more of a drowned puppy by this point, grabbed hold of the spurt of energy coursing through her burning thighs. But the earth beneath her had other ideas.

Gravel rocketed into the disgruntled teen's faces and left bare asphault beneath Dylan's already questionable hold on the ground. Long black strands of hair splayed across her face as her cheek made contact with a million tiny rocks. Initially, Dylan was unsure of how to respond to her fall. Gasping for air, as the wind had been knocked out of her chest, she reclaimed her thoughts. Blue eyes settled on an unstable-looking, rusty ladder leading up the height of the town's water tower. Peeling away wet hair from her ivory skin and tucking it behind her multipled piercings residing on her right ear, Dylan kicked at the loose pavement which only sent her forward a few inches at a time before she was able to fully stand and lunge at the rickety ladder.

The rungs flew past her as she struggled to keep hold of the slippery bars. Behind her she could hear the snarling boys who had all but given up the chase. Determined to reach the platform, Dylan climbed over the dewed edge of the blue metal catwalk. Sides heaving, the girl took a moment to catch her breath, reaching for the railing and hurling herself over it. Yet, she still had not removed herself from harm's way. Instead, Dylan was trapped. Her only move was to continue circling the tower to avoid being caught. Taking note of a clear path, Dylan surged forward but stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of one of the boys. Turning quickly on her heels, she attempted to run in the other direction, only to find herself faced with the muscular chest of another teenage boy. Strong hands grasped her shoulders, forcing her backward into the cold metal of the water tower. Wincing, Dylan could already feel the tenderness of the muscle; she was sure there would be a hand-shaped bruise tomorrow.

Dylan was completely surrounded in that moment. Three pairs of eyes glistening with malcontempt, snarling and shouting obscenities over the harsh effects of the storm. Whipping around wildly, her hair left stinging sensations across her face, and she tried backing up to flatten herself as much as possible against the metal behind her. Dylan felt the sharp pain bloom across the left side of her face before she had even been aware, the force surely going to cause whiplash later. Her blue eyes shifted, and she became aware that the one in the middle was already putting his arm back down at his side. He didn't bother to stop, already issuing orders to the others' which had them moving forward, seizing the flailing arms and holding the girl between them. It was no use, her feeble attempts to break free resulting in more stinging slaps and a hidden punch to her stomach. Dropping to her knees, gasping for air, she dared herself to look up. She had been through worse. Hell, Dylan had more than just concussions and broken bones, none of which were even from her classmates. With the way her parents were, she was almost positive that there was nothing worse that these assholes could inflict upon her. Or so she thought.

Her vision focused upon the silver flickering object in front of her, Dylan's arms being pulled up and held back once more in an unbreakable hold. The two restraining Dylan shouted, and the alpha in front of her moved forward while twirling the boxcutter between his fingers. "You shouldn't have opened up your mouth bitch, and now I'm going to put you back in your place…" His stale breath filled her nostils as he leaned closer to her ear, letting the menacing words slip off his tongue. He started by trailing the blade down the front of her shirt, slowly taking his time, shredding the white fabric from the pressure. Dylan suppressed a shudder, her midriff now exposed to both the wailing elements and her captors. She felt every slice he made, the blood barely visible with the rain falling down in icy waves. They took their time, cutting the exposed flesh before finally finishing; her body fell with a heavy thud. Shallow breaths managed to escape her, and Dylan made quite the effort to scramble back to her feet, only succeeding in pushing onto her hands and knees.

She couldn't remember at what point they began kicking, only realizing that she had now ended up on her back, with her blue eyes meeting the pulsing electric filled sky. Everything was bathed in flashes of bright light, that only seemed to get brighter with every passing moment. Dylan had a hard time focusing on that though. Her head made her feel like she was swimming, so lightheaded from the amount of blood that she had already lost. She had to focus, it couldn't be much longer before her assailants gave up on her, leaving her to whatever fate had planned. For an instant, Dylan could see that the panic she felt was being rivaled by one of the boys. Beneath her bruised arms she could feel a vibrating current that seemed to be summoned as though brought forth from a rather angry God. Muttering curses beneath his wretched breath, the largest of her captors glanced in frustration at the near ebony skyline. Gripping at his weapon, an internal debate took over his dimwitted mind on whether to abandon his game or to take the risk to face Zeus' wrath; but the decision had been made for him. Yards below them, the twins and their wicked leader huddled together, squirming in discomfort from the fridged drizzle. An ear splitting crack sounded beside the trio as the trunk of a wide oak sheared in two. The Sanchez witches screeched in terror and abandoned their queen. Natasha looked at them, bewildered, before silently agreeing that leaving the park was a safe bet.

"We need to get the hell out of here, man…" one of the goons said after hearing the tree crash into the sodden earth. Without much of a second thought, the other two nodded, and thrust their way passed Dylan, not minding that their feet were giving a last handful of thrusts into her ribcage. Mustering as much energy as possible, Dylan pushed herself over to the edge of the adjoining platforms with the thought that most of the boys had already left, just to catch a glance of the situation going on below. She spotted, with much difficulty due to the rain flooding most of her vision, the three guys reach the bottom of the ladder after a couple of minutes; they took no time however, in quickly joining their counterparts and fleeing the erupting scene. With the last of her energy draining, Dylan's head dropped, resting on nothing but air. Steel dug into her neck, but the chill went unnoticed as the rest of her body had already been numbed long before; however, her open wounds still stung with a ferocity she had not felt in a decent while.

In the blink of a sapphire blue eye, the teenage girl's world went white. Her body shook, but it wasn't a convulsion. The intensity of the thunderous clap that followed a blinding streak of lightning engulfed Dylan's entire frame. Darkness crept into the edge of her vision until her universe became a black hole.

A/N: Doesn't everyone just love a good, juicy cliffhanger? XD I am so sorry for how terribly long this chapter took me to post, you wouldn't belive how difficult it was for me to try and write in third person; actually had to have my best friend help me a LOT. So let me know how terrible, if terrible it was, by taking some time out of your daily fanfictioning lives to review! I hope you enjoyed, and I am already going to start on the second chapter tonight.  
Yours forever more,  
CryoticCasper.


	3. The Faithful Bride

A/N: I was listening to 'You'll Be Okay' by A Great Big World, (not that that has any big significance to this chapter), but I thought it sort of fit. Apologies in advance for how long this took to finish and post, I had a hard time deciding where to start Dylan off in the POTC story/timeline. Anyways I hope you enjoy this, and remember, please read and review! *throws some cheerios at the starving fanfictioners* ...don't hate me… D:

She found herself in a weird wonderland, one that was no where close to those that appeared in her dreams; nothing seemed to be truly real, it all looked wrong. She was used to dreaming about fantastical landscapes, ones that featured wide green ever-growing pastures as far as the eye could see, looming and broad trunk willow trees with branches that threatened to touch the heavens,even luminous mountains whom peaks would shine brightly in the sun with glistening snow; this was definitely not the norm.

Waves of water that was as clear as the finest crystal, yet could only truly be described as cerulean blue in color, crashed senselessly against the jagged shore. Her toes were met with a wet, mushy substance, and upon looking down she noticed the presence of the light beige sand. Warm, yet still gentle wind blew gently across the planes of her sunburnt cheeks, seeming to reach like an invisible arm across the wide expanse of ocean before her.

Was this all real, or was she still stuck in her mind's eye, coddled up with worn tattered blankets? She could still picture herself laying upon her thin strung-out mattress, the somewhat raucous nightlife of the outside town bringing the noise through her window and to her ears. So to her, this dreamscape was a lie, it could not, in no possible way be real.

Still reeling with slight denial, she had assumed she was alone, as she usually is, and did not actually register that there was footsteps approaching. So when reality came crashing down, and brought her back to her senses, she quickly heard a rough, fanatical voice speak out and the cold, sharp tip of a blade at her neck.

"Ello' poppet.."

To say that she was simply scared, would have been a great understatement. Maybe terrified. Perhaps more than a little confused; wouldn't you be in her situation? Screwing her eyes shut, she debated with herself for a bit mentally. Part of her screamed at herself to wake up, while the other half really didn't want to find out who was behind her. But why would it matter if she did, this was all just a dream, right?

Summoning what little courage she did have, because honestly it could NOT be that bad, she half-turned expecting some big burly fellow, who maybe had a gruff beard and matching clothes; in her mind she pictured a tall, muscular, and rough looking lumberjack type. Dylan tried to keep silent, but her breath quickly escaped her, some sound being brought with it. Giggles. Then those small little giggles quickly turned into full blown-out, gut-clenching laughter; the result of which had Dylan hunching over, arms clutching her stomach.

"And just what are you supposed to be, a pirate?!" Dylan raised up a bit, eyeing the stranger with amusement. "Please tell me there's supposed to be some kind of renaissance festival in town!" At this remark, she doubled over once more, chuckling without abandon.

"Eh, lass have you lost yer mind? What'd you think I was, a 'irty landlubber?"

"Aw, aren't you so adorable! Does the short little man, have a short little fuse?" Dylan fell backwards into the sand, trying her best to contain her laughter. With the sound of new footsteps approaching, she sat up as much as she could managed to try and get a good look at whoever it was, and had to chew on the insides of her cheeks to keep from barking out even more laughter.

"Pintel! Look at wha' I found!" The approaching man said, grinning from ear to ear. Thin to the extreme, and with what appeared to only be one eye (upon closer inspection she thought she could glimpse an eye patch covering what could only be the other eye), the new arrival held up what he had gathered within his arms. "You blundering oaf! We _supposed_ t' be gatherin' more fruits, _**not 'roken pieces of seashells**_!"

"...don't hafta be so mean 'bout it, 'sides iffin we supposed to be doin' that, why are ya standin' there with the pretty lady? Ya know it's rude to just be pointin' yer sword at people, much less lasses'." The thin looking man finished rather pointedly, shuffling on the soles of his feet. Dylan watched as the thin man moved to stand next to the other, trying his best to juggle all the items in his arms, while the man named _Pintel_ lowered his sword slightly, managing to start stammering and have his entire face flush with anger.

Almost immediately a bickering quarrel breaks out between the two, each one giving each other shoves and slaps upside the head or arm; briefly, it reminded Dylan of what a lovers' fight would pretty much look like. Well, without all the curses and foul language of course. Noticing that it didn't look like the 'fight' between the two men was going to end anytime soon, and not really expecting her questions to be answered either, she decided to leave the men there on the beach and explore the area around her.

It was beyond beautiful, this little paradise of a dream that greeted her. Actually taking the time to look around, it was more than breathtaking. Tropical plants and trees growing without abandon, along the ending edge of the beach. To the right of her, past the bickering men, she could see cliffs rising and towering over what looked to be a dock of some sorts. To the left of her, the overgrowing forest perched on, leading to what looked like even more trees. _Well, I can always explore the forest later, but if there really is a festival or something going on I'd rather go see that. I never have been to one before…_

Oddly enough, the young girl still thought that this was some type of dream her mind was portraying onto her. A very realistic dream, which in the back of her head she thought was still a bit too vivid. Was this one of those lucid dreams she had heard about in health class? If she could remember correctly, a lucid dream is any dream in which one is aware that one is dreaming. Well, seeing as how she was sure that she was indeed dreaming, this must be one of those cases.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she continued walking briskly towards what she could see of the docks, noticing the multitude of different vessels surrounding them. Billowing sails of incoming ships could be seen, as they sailed closer to the dock so as to set anchor. As Dylan closed in further to the docks, shouts could be heard as several men (what she assumed were supposed to be 'pirates'), barked orders to each other. These same men idling around while others were carrying barrels of salted fish, fruit, flour and fresh water off decks.

Sails flapping and rustling, bare and booted feet thumping against both the vessels' decks and the dock itself could be heard all around, but her blue eyes didn't miss the fact that although there were a crowd of people she had walked into, they were all making their way through a parting in the forest's edge and towards what looked to be a bustling town. Following the mass of adjoining bodies moving forward, she took in even more of the sights around her.

Dylan eyed all the people that were milling around, becoming more than amused by the variations of characters; she surmised that they did this more than just _once _in a blue moon. The citizens of the raucous and bustling town ranged from what looked to be regular civilians and soldiers (although guessing by their torn uniforms they weren't _exactly_ in the service anymore..), to buccaneers and busty wenches. Some ragged and mangy merchants could also be seen on the sidelines, their voices highly crowing over the boisterous crowd. Besides the numerous buildings that held a variety of shops, only one building really caught her eye.

From the outside, the building appeared to be little more than an oversized shack, and looked to be constructed from the wood of wrecked boats. Being within the close vicinity, it smelled of what had to be tar, salt, seaweed and fish. The roof was noticeably too weak to be able to keep any rain from dripping into the inner dwellings. Her line of sight captured by the thronging of bodies thrusting their way in and out of the threshold, Dylan also noticed a sign hanging above the door, with a worn and chipped away painting of woman (dressed as a bride), smiling and holding a bouquet in her manacled hands; the faded words 'The Faithful Bride' just below.

Making her way through the crowd, and once through the door, Dylan fought her way through a gauntlet of rough bodies (most of them choosing to either crowd around the bar, or the handful of shoddy tables and booths that filled the scuffed up floor). Deciding to head towards the back (that back booth did look rather nice..), the smell of stale alcohol-soaked breath, sweat, and an over abundance of perfume filled the air. Dylan had never stepped foot into a place like this before, her days confined to both home and school was all she was accustomed to, so to be here brought a smile to her face; the result of childlike wonder. Halfway to the back, a collective shout went up and before she could react properly, Dylan collided with a soft body, the tray of drinks the other person had been carrying drenched the front of Dylan's shirt (though it had already been stained with dirt and blood, so it honestly wasn't much of a loss in the long run).

"OI, WATCH WHERE THE BLOODY HELL YOU'RE GOING!", a high-pitched voice screeched from somewhere above Dylan. Murmuring an apology as she moved to push herself back up to her feet, Dylan hissed in pain having just placed her hand in the pile of broken mugs that had resulted from the collision. A tsking noise came from the same woman, who moments ago had been hollering at her, and she was quickly pulled back towards the bar, also simultaneously being dragged behind the partition that led to the kitchens. Not being given even a slight chance to question what the woman wanted, or was doing for that matter, Dylan was forced to sit down next to a table; her hand being pulled forward to be inspected by the other girl.

"Eh, you're a lucky lass. It's not that deep of a cut, ol' Ana here will fix ya right up!", the woman chirped cheerily, "sorry bout' that back there. Thought ya t'was one of the drunkards stumbling into me tryin' to cop' a feel!".

Stammering, Dylan barely managed a reply, before simply deciding to stay quiet; the overly eccentric woman was probably going to continue whatever she was doing, no matter what was said anyways. Frizzed to the extreme, her ginger colored hair was falling out of it's bun in frayed curly strands, framing her powdered face. Looking to be only in her mid-thirties, the woman definitely did not show any signs of aging; her energetic attitude being very admirable. Smiling and setting down the objects she had gathered onto the table, Ana pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Dylan, before she began to speak. "So, where are ya from m'dear? Haven't seen someone like you round' these parts 'fore."

"Um, I think that's because I've never been here before-" Dylan paused, flinching as Ana started pulling the smaller shards of glass out of her palm. Ana smiled apologetically, before nodding towards Dylan, urging her to continue, "-I don't exactly know where I am for that matter. I keep thinking I'm dreaming, but it can't be a dream if everything's so real. So logically if I can feel, then this can't be a dream...which still doesn't change the fact that I don't know where I am. Or how I got here. Although the festival is rather lovely, the costumes are amazing too!" Her smile faltered, as she noticed Ana staring at her rather oddly. Cheeks heating up, she looked away embarrassed. She had been rambling in her nervousness.

The silence continued for a bit, before soft laughter started to fill the small kitchenette. "You sure are an odd one, aren't ya?" still chuckling, Ana looked back to Dylan's now bandaged hand, turning it this way and that; Ana's hazel eyes searching for any other major cuts. When Ana didn't explain anything further, Dylan spoke up, her curiosity getting the better of her. "So, this is a festival right? That's why all of you are dressed in odd costumes and stuff?" Again, Ana gave her a worried look, reaching over to place the back of her hand across Dylan's forehead. When it didn't appear that Dylan had a fever, Ana looked even more worried. "Did ya hit yer head or sumthing? Darling, yer in Tortuga at the Faithful Bride, and t' only one dressed weird is you."

Confused, Dylan tried to think back to what happened, willing herself to try and remember how she wound up on the beach. Oddly enough, the memories she thought she had were now replaced with muddled darkness and random blurred images. Pushing herself to try and remember, and only gaining a headache in the process, she placed her head in her hands; why was it that she couldn't remember anything at all? Muttering to herself mostly, she spoke soft words, "..maybe I did hit my head..".

Never before had she felt so confused or disoriented. The feeling consumed and flooded her entire being, and she didn't enjoy it at all. Getting up to both clean up the used supplies, Ana walked back over to Dylan and brought her a mug of water. "How 'bout this darling, why don't I get ya into th' bath upstairs and sum clean clothes', then we can talk to the missus' and see what ta do wit' ya.", Ana said cheerfully, picking up the hem of her skirts and rushing upstairs before Dylan even had a chance to object.

Finally taking the moment to breath and gather her thoughts (hard to do with an eccentric woman like Ana around you..), Dylan set her head upon the wooden table, hands and arms acting as a makeshift pillow. How in the hell did she end up in this place? The island, the town, the people that surrounded her; just what was all of it supposed to mean? At first, she had thought it was a dream, some way for her mind to cope with whatever was happening in the present, but with what had already occurred in the last couple of hours, that was obviously not the case. A part of her was happy to be able to be in such an exotic paradise, another amazed at how different everything and everyone was, the last one slightly longing to be back home even at the thought of what awaited her there.

It must have been at least twenty minutes or so before Ana made her way back downstairs, Dylan being so lost in her thoughts, not having noticed her until she was startled by Ana's small hand gently shaking her shoulder. Ana was just about to lead the sulking and confused girl upstairs, to set about getting her into proper attire, but was interrupted by another waitress who had all but ran into the small room. The newly arrived waitress stopped just as she got over the threshold, busty chest heaving as she gasped for air and arm thrown against the back of the chair for support (whether the lack of air was from running, or from that extremely tight-laced corset, Dylan would never know..), before she finally addressed the two.

"Ana, you'll never guess who jus' walked in!", the waitresses' eyes twinkled with delight as she waited for Ana to say who she thought walked in. "I dunno', I've been in 'ere, so out with it Elise!" Ana huffed out irritatedly. Grin splitting even wider (not that it could have stretched much more), Elise continued excitedly. "He's back Ana! Cap'n Sparrow is back!"

_

A/N: So how was that? I had more written, but I kept being indecisive as to where I would end the chapter exactly. Also how was the dialogue? I wanted to make it somewhat believable, and then of course I wasn't sure what to do with Pintel & Ragetti (obviously they are there as part of Jack's crew), and then I also wasn't sure how Dylan would react exactly to them, or the town and it's occupants. Haha, I actually did some research as to how Tortuga is described, and to learn how the Faithful Bride looks (might I add that its one of Jack's favorite haunts?). Teehee! Well I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter (already working on the third), I hope you guys enjoyed it as well, and please let me know what you think of the story development so far by reviewing! Thank you!


End file.
